


Ride a White Horse (Things to Get Away With in a Skirt Remix)

by NEStar



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-21
Updated: 2010-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:12:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NEStar/pseuds/NEStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was just hormones," she tells herself, "some women are in bed with a heating pad and horrible cramps, I get horny. It's just the way it works."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride a White Horse (Things to Get Away With in a Skirt Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eyebrowofdoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyebrowofdoom/gifts).
  * Inspired by ["Things to Get Away With in a Skirt"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/873) by eyebrowofdoom. 



> Thanks to Beth, who was a wonderful editor.

Miranda wakes up with every nerve in her body tingling. The sheet rubs against the skin of her legs and a shiver of feeling ran up her back and into her breasts.

 

That could only mean one thing: her menstrual period would be starting today.

 

As she makes her way in to the bathroom and dugs out a box of panty liners, she thinks,  _“Please let the dress hide any bloating.” _ She pulls on a pair of sweatpants and throw her hair into a quick bun for her seven am call.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

She comes out of costuming to hear the chatter of stage hands, “And he's actually blushing as he says 'just move like you're... well, you know.' So David cuts him off and says, 'I'll just go fuck the horse, shall I?'”

 

The door to the studio swings shut, closing out the sound of laughter. On the set the props team is putting the set dressings out while the lighting team is running levels. The assistant director waves her over to where he and Viggo are standing. “This is a short one, just the two of you, so we're hoping to do this quickly. Miranda, you're here,” He points to a sofa, “And Viggo, you enter from the back of the hall.”

 

She watches Viggo jog off and, for just a second, allows herself to stare at his ass before she lays down on the sofa. 

 

“Do we have a blanket?” The A.D. asks. “Never mind, we can block without it for now. And cue Aragorn.”

 

Miranda watches with half lidded eyes as Viggo walks in and kneels by the fire pit. He looks up at her and, for a heartbeat, their eyes lock. She softly lets out a shaking breath as he stands up and walks over to her. His hand ghosts down her calf - an imaginary blanket being straightened. It then moves towards her face and his thumb brush her check – a fold of that blanket being tucked closer. As his hand falls from her shoulder, the dress tugs across her breasts and it's all she can do to say her line. “What time is it?”

 

“Not yet dawn.” he answers in a soft voice.

 

Shoving the shaking aside, Miranda grabs for his hand and begins to say her lines, “I dreamed I saw a great wave...” The pad of his thumb brushes gently across her knuckles as she delivers the rest of her speech. “...I could only stand there, waiting.”

 

She isn't surprised to feel a tear roll down her cheek. It's only blocking, but the speech does cut to the core of who Eowyn is.

 

His hand wipes the tear away and for a moment she can't tell where the acting stops.

 

“Night changes many thoughts.”

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

She wasn't released until after well midnight and doesn't leave the set until nearly two, but the hormones running havoc in her body aren't ready to let her sleep yet. So she sets off towards town and the twenty-four hour market.

 

The lights are bright white and harsh as she grabs a basket and makes her way through the store. A quick trip through the feminine product section lands a box of tampons and a bottle of paracetamol next to the peanut butter she is craving. With that craving taken care of, now she just needs to get back to her room and work off this itch that's been clinging to her skin all day.

 

A flip through a gossip rag at the check out counter gives her a glimpse of her ex. Maybe that's what she needs tonight, a hint of fantasy mixed with a scoop of memory. She closes her eyes and tries to remember what Richard's fingers felt like on her legs, her breasts, her face.

 

“Another early riser.”

 

The memory comes, but it's of Viggo's fingers on her legs, her hand, her face.

 

“You were hungry?” he asks and all she can do is wonder what his belly button would taste like.

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

She spent the rest of the week riding the barrel pony in chain mail. Now, at a table, Dom is recounting the “best three days of his life” - being held by a warrior woman while she made love to a horse. Billy's loud reply that Ian had done the same, but while wearing a dress, had the whole pub laughing.

 

“A good week all around, I think.” she say as she stands next to Viggo at the bar, waiting for her drink. As they walk back to the table she notices a trace of red pant clinging to his cuticles and the urge to suck them clean overtakes her.

 

Someone makes another joke about Ian, his robe and the barrel horse. “Thank god I was in mail,” she says, “Some things you just can't get away with in a skirt.”

 

“That's very true.” Viggo says softly by her ear, “But then, there are some things that a skirt just makes better.” There's a rush of warm air across her neck and a quick tug at the hem of her skirt.

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

It's drizzling outside, but, despite the chill, Miranda is still too hot. 

 

“_It was just hormones,”_ she tells herself, _“some women are in bed with a heating pad and horrible cramps, I get horny. It's just the way it works.”_

 

The door opens and she's so lost in thought she doesn't notice as several of the crew walk by her.

 

“Miranda.” 

 

She looks down to see Viggo standing at the bottom of the stairs with Orlando behind him on the sidewalk.

 

“What time is it?” she asks, and there's a mad panic as she tries to remember what time her call is, then a rush of relief when the time – late afternoon – comes to her.

 

“Not yet dawn.” 

 

She can't help but smile. Who cares if it's hormones or a case of taking the character to heart or...

 

“You know, You're getting really good at that,” Orlando says. “Looking at him like you're in love.” he elbows Viggo teasingly in the ribs.

Viggo doesn't flinch under the blow. “She is,” he replies.

 

...or love.

  



End file.
